


Indulgence

by ultharkitty



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-18
Updated: 2012-05-18
Packaged: 2017-11-05 14:37:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/pseuds/ultharkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt left from alejandro on DW: TFA Megatron & Starscream - courtship</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indulgence

So wrapped up was he in his own machinations, it took Starscream far longer than it should have to realise that he wasn't the only one with plans.

It began with a lingering glance over the star charts in the War Room, innumerable touches to his wings that he'd dismissed as his leader's way of reinforcing his dominance.

But there were other things, occurrences that didn't scream of an aggressive need to stay on top. Requisition forms promptly signed off without even a query; invitations to meetings that had only a tangential relevance to Starscream's own command, but which held a strong appeal to his curiosity; a lift on restrictions of hot water and cleanser to his private rooms when others were on a tight ration. The very existence of those private rooms when ground-based commanders dormed with their troops.

Luxuries, all of them. Starscream was being indulged.

The thought was thrilling, but far from conclusive. He could have earnt these privileges. He was skilled, intelligent, the finest flier Cybertron had ever produced, one of its very greatest minds.

He made sure to give Megatron every opportunity to show his hand. He stayed behind after meetings, he found reasons to loiter on the bridge. A tilt of his hips, a flick of his ailerons. He made himself available.

The indulgences kept coming. Fresh troops brand new from the factories when others had to make do with recycled parts and non-sentient drones; fresh equipment for his lab; a cube of the finest high grade he had ever had the pleasure of tasting sitting square in the middle of his desk after one particularly long and tiring mission.

Again, inconclusive. Note of this meant that Megatron was trying to court him, but if he was... The thought was intoxicating. Power, influence, lordship over the known universe; the possibilities were endless.

It was nothing, of course, that he wasn't already attempting to achieve, but this could be a far more pleasant way of going about it.

In the end, it was Lugnut who provided the catalyst. Myopic devotion personified, the hulking minion stood sentinel at Megatron's shoulder, as close to his chair as he could get without crushing it. The bridge was empty barring the three of them, although Lugnut's hostility radiated to fill all available space.

Starscream took it as a challenge; avoid Lugnut, get close to Megatron. It became a game. Talk over his head, discuss ideas he was too slow-clocked to comprehend, and faster than he could keep up with. Starscream moved from the chair he'd been assigned to the edge of the table, leaned forward, offered a smile.

Megatron's lips quirked up at one corner, and he ordered Lugnut out. No, not ordered, requested. Sent him on a mission all of his own, with a demand to return at a set time the following cycle and report.

It forced Starscream, briefly, to recalculate Lugnut's worth. But then the coghead was gone, and it was the work of a few quick words and a rev of his engine to land himself in Megatron's lap.

He expected remonstration, denial for the sake of maintaining the upper hand. It never came. Instead Megatron laughed, claws encircling his waist, engine roaring.

"Finally," he said. "Now open."

Starscream shifted to straddle him, grinding forward; the stifled moan was wonderful to hear. His vents came hotter, faster, but he kept his panels resolutely closed.

He matched Megatron's triumphant smirk, hands on his chest, thrumming with the force of his spark.

"I'm not so easily won," he whispered. "If you want this..." He pressed their panels together, so hot. "You have to earn it."


End file.
